


wanna see what's under that attitude

by alltheworldsinmyhead



Series: gendrya smutverse [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, BDSM, Dom!Gendry, Established Relationship, F/M, Gendrya - Freeform, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rope Bondage, Sub!Arya, and with a sappy ending, because these two are Soft For Each Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:54:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21864601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alltheworldsinmyhead/pseuds/alltheworldsinmyhead
Summary: ''Arya finds what she assumes to be her gift two weeks before Christmas, as she’s searching the closet for her old university shirt. Her fingers freeze half-motion when they stumble upon a set of pale silk ropes tied together neatly and tucked in-between socks in Gendry’s drawer which is, let’s be honest, a very lousy place to hide anything. '' // Arya and Gendry have some really great sex. That's it. That's the whole story.
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters
Series: gendrya smutverse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1652332
Comments: 56
Kudos: 206





	wanna see what's under that attitude

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this story is set in the same au as Your Lips, My Lips, Apocalypse and there are some call-backs scattered here and there - but you definitely don't need to read that fic before reading this one.  
Title from Taylor Swift's I Think He Knows, because it fits gendrya perfectly.
> 
> This fic is my Christmas gift to myself, because this fandom seriously needs some more kinky stories. I hope you'll enjoy reading it at least half as much as I enjoyed writing it ;).

> _Stare through you like window glass_
> 
> _I'm only getting started_
> 
> _See the moon in your eyes_
> 
> _I'm dangerous and you want it_
> 
> _Want it, want it, you know it_
> 
> _You want me to be yours_
> 
> _And I want you to let me in_
> 
> _So I'm gonna feed your ego_
> 
> _Can't waste time so you got to_
> 
> _Let me, let me need you_
> 
> \- Ego, Chris Loco
> 
> * * *

Arya finds what she assumes to be her gift two weeks before Christmas, as she’s searching the closet for her old university shirt. Her fingers freeze half-motion when they stumble upon a set of pale silk ropes tied together neatly and tucked in-between socks in Gendry’s drawer which is, let’s be honest, a very lousy place to hide anything. He knows she likes to steal his socks, the fluffy pair which Mya got him for his birthday. He has seen her wearing them to bed numerous times, after all. How he could forget-

Or maybe he didn’t.

Maybe, just maybe, he was not trying to hide them well at all.

Her knees get a little weak at this thought, so she flops down on the floor in front of the cupboard, soft material still entwined between her fingers, spilling from the drawer when she pulls on it mindlessly. She did tell him she wanted him to tie her up, although it was such a long time ago she barely recalls it herself. They weren’t even dating then. She was still unsure if they could build something on the questionable basis of some fond childhood memories and one good hook-up.

But they did build something; they built a relationship, the most real and best she has ever had. 

And the first one in her life in which she can openly, unashamedly, tell her partner what she truly likes in bed.

She glances at the rope again and her mouth waters.

Ahhh, it’s gonna be good.

*

When Gendry comes home, he finds Arya spread flat on the plush carpet in their living room. Her feet are propped up on the sofa and she’s playing with the blue bondage rope coiling around her, quietly humming to herself some song he has never heard. She sends him a wicked grin when he stops dead on his track and gapes at her for a moment, a greeting frozen on his mouth.

‘’You should’ve hidden it better, honey.’’ Arya winks, hoisting herself up to sit cross-legged, graceful like a cat. Her t-shirt shifts a little from the motion, slipping down and exposing her smooth, pale shoulder.

He slowly, carefully, sets the bags full of groceries on the floor and inhales sharply at the sight of ropes pooled on her lap. Not that he did not expect her to find it; the anticipation was part of the whole plan, to be honest. But he thought that it would take her a bit more time than merely two days.

‘’That would be against my best interest.’’ He manages to utter, at last, voice dropping an octave lower and harsh like gravel. 

Her eyes crinkle as she laughs at his words and fuck, how he loves this sound.

*

‘’Okay, some ground rules first.’’

‘’You’re very sexy when you talk business to me, you know?’’

‘’Arya-‘’

‘’Fine, go on.’’

‘’So first of all, obviously – are you okay with keeping quiet unless asked?’’

‘’I mean… You know it’s not easy for me, but I guess it’s fun when it works out, so yes. I can do this.’’

‘’Do you want to be all tied up? Or only your hands?’’

‘’Don’t have a preference. Surprise me.’’

‘’You remember your safe words?’’

‘’Yup, acorn for slow down, peach for code red, hard stop. Stop fretting.’’

‘’I’m not fretting.’’

‘’Yes, you are.’’

He isn’t, not really. He’s impatient, and that’s a dangerous thing in a situation like the one they’re currently discussing, so he tries to get a hold of himself as well as possible. 

Which is not an easy feat, really. Arya is practically vibrating on the bed next to him; her pupils dilated and her fingers twisting the hem of her shirt. She’s already blushing, pink glow blooming on her cheeks as she stares at him with this hungry look in her eyes. They probably should’ve stayed in the living room - that would’ve bought him some restraint.

But well, while Gendry can take his time when he wants to, even he has his limits.

And right now, his hands are furiously itching to touch her.

‘’Okay, baby. Take off your clothes.’’

He doesn’t call Arya any pet names, ever, except like this, like now. She hums softly, a dazed smile slowly appearing on her face when she pushes herself off the mattress and pulls her shirt off.

*

‘’Keep your eyes closed, love.’’

She does, worrying her lower lip between her teeth as the tip of his index finger travels down the line of her spine so torturously slowly that her legs start to tremble slightly. There’s something so incredibly arousing in standing still like that, stark naked in every sense of the word, while he’s fully clothed and toying with her, letting her stew in anticipation.

His finger comes to a halt when it reaches her tailbone and suddenly a flash of pain runs through her; all the muscles in her body tighten as he lands smack on her ass and she sways on her feet lightly, not managing to swallow her moan quickly enough when her skin starts to tingle.

‘’Gimmie your hands.’’ He commands into her ear. Her palms immediately meet behind her back, the act making her back straighten and pushing her chest forward, and she feels his hot breath on the skin of shoulder as he chuckles. ’’Eager girl.’’

Understatement of the fucking century.

He slowly, almost lazily, wraps his fingers around her wrists, his grip tight enough to press them flat together against one another, and she moans again. For the most part, Gendry’s so gentle towards her, that it’s easy to forget what power he holds. He could potentially make her do whatever he wants, force her into things she does not agree to. He’s strong enough to do this and she gave him all the power on top of that.

But he never would; he’s her Gendry and he loves her, and that why all of this feels so good and so sweet. She wouldn’t have it with anyone else but him.

He presses a hot, wet kiss in the junction of her neck, almost purring at her breathy gasps.

‘’You want me to tie you up, hmm?’’

‘’Yes.’’ She sighs, lacing her fingers together. ‘’Yes, please.’’

Immediately, he lets go of her wrists and she lets out a small whine of regret before he smacks her ass again and places his hand on her lower back, gently pushing her forward.

‘’You can open your eyes now. Go, lay down on the bed and spread your legs for me, okay?’’

Truth to be told, other men asked her to do that before and it always made her feel vulnerable in the worst way, overexposed and silly. It doesn’t now – mostly because, when she obeys him, Gendry looks at her cunt with such an intense desire written on her face that she barely remembers how to breathe.

He sits down on the mattress between her spread feet, but does not make any move to touch her; he’s just watching her, his eyes lazily following the lines of her body, taking notice of her heaving chest, of her curling toes, of her lip still trapped between her teeth.

‘’So eager. Do you want my hands on you?’’

Arya hates how he always phrases everything as a question, even when he already knows the answer. He lowers his head to her raised knee, pressing a small kiss on her skin and making her shiver. And then, he ducks in-between her legs for a second and exhales a hot puff of breath right against her folds. It feels like a slap; she almost jumps out of her skin at the sudden, overpowering pleasure that rolls over her like a wave. She’s not sure she’s much capable of answering in any coherent way now, and it’s beyond embarrassing, cause he still fucking hasn’t even touched her. So, instead of saying anything, she just nods gingerly, satisfaction blooming in her chest as she notices his clenched fists.

_You can pretend all you want love, but I’m not the only one eager here._

‘’You gotta earn it, then.’’ He lets out through clenched teeth and she knows exactly what he’ll tell her to do before he does. ‘’Touch yourself.’’

Her hands fly to her chest in a flash. He did not specify where she’s supposed to put them and she does not plan of making it easy for him. Gendry has caressed and kissed and explored every part of her body, but she knows for a fact that nothing drives him crazy quite the way breast play does. Ignoring the pulsating ache between her legs, she settles on slowly massaging soft flesh, alternating between rolling her nipples between her fingers and pulling on them, keeping her half-lidded eyes fixed on his; and she is not disappointed, because it only takes maybe a few minutes and her breathing turning into soft panting, before Gendry’s fingers wrap around the column of her neck, making her gasp for air.

‘’You think you’re so clever, don’t you?’’ he growls and _yes, there it is_, her head’s spinning and she can do nothing but lay still, sprayed on the bed; his hand on her throat and his eyes pinning her down better than any restraints ever could. ‘’To tease me like that?’’

His voice might be harsh, but the corners of his mouth are up, and there are sparkles in his dark eyes when he lowers his face towards hers, the tips of their noses brushing.

‘’You didn’t like it?’’ she cannot stop herself from asking, the cheeky note in her voice turning into a breathless whine when he tightens his fingers just a little bit.

‘’Oh, believe me, I did.’’ His other hand suddenly appears on her ribcage, his thumb ghosting above her skin, barely caressing the underside of her left breast until she starts to wriggle on the sheets. He’s towering above her, still holding her by the throat, but otherwise touching her way too delicately for her taste, and whatever ache she felt before turns into a full-blown need, dangerously toying on the not-fun kind of painful.

Before she can say anything more, his lips capture hers and her eyes close automatically; Gendry’s such a good kisser that’s insane and he’s also just as much of a tease as she is – he withdraws slightly now and then, just to make her chase his mouth, and then playfully nips on her lower lip, already swollen from all the biting she did earlier. Good that she’s not going to work tomorrow, cause it would be a pain in the ass to sleep with ice on her mouth. If she’ll get any sleep this night at all.

‘’Hands above your head, darling.’’ He commands in-between kisses and when she moves her arms up, he rewards her by lowering his head down and finding her pulse point with his teeth, scraping against it as her cunt clenches, desperate for some friction. He sucks the thin skin gently, bracing himself on one hand while sliding the other down her torso, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

But just when she’s sure he’ll finally, finally, touch her just where she needs him to, his fingers just brush against her inner thigh before his palm slides up again and settles on her hipbone. At this point, her fingers claw at the pillow above her head and she’s pretty sure she’s about to start crying from this crushing pressure, tightening her like a bowstring. Her calves are shaking, her teeth are clattering, and yup, that’s a step too far.

‘’Acorn.’’ She breathes out and in mere seconds, Gendry has her scooped up in his arms, his hand cradling the back of her head as she trembles, her face pressed to the crook of his neck.

‘’Sorry, love.’’ He whispers softly against her hair and she inhales deeply, trying to ground herself again.

‘’That’s fine, I’m okay.’’ She murmurs, turning her head to peck him on the jaw. ‘’It was just a little too much. I need a second and we can go again.’’

‘’You sure?’’ he asks, tracing comforting circles on her bare back and she huffs at that.

‘’Yes, I am. It was my idea, wasn’t it?’’

‘’Doesn’t matter.’’ He shrugs and presses a kiss to the crown of her head. ‘’You can change your mind whenever you want. Let me know when you’re good.’’

They stay still for a second, Gendry swaying her in his arms and Arya focused on controlling her breathing until this violent ache between her legs slowly dies down into a pleasant tingling and her hands stop trembling.

She kisses his jaw again, then the side of his neck, then his collarbone, shifting her body against his.

‘’I’m good.’’ She whispers, and he grabs her shoulders, pushing her away gently to survey her face. ‘’I told you, I’m-‘’

He smoothly flops her back down, pinning her to the mattress and making her yelp in surprise, heat pooling in her belly instantly.

‘’Hands up. And keep them there.’’ Gendry commands, tapping at her hipbone with one finger. The moment she follows the order, he beams at her and she smiles back, ridiculously cherry. He’s always handsome and she’s always aware of that, but it strikes her especially hard when they’re in bed together; how prettily his blue eyes shine, how perfect his cheekbones are, how boyish are those unruly strands of hair falling on his forehead.

How beautiful he is. And all hers.

He presses a soft kiss on her cheek and slides down to kneel between her legs, his hands gripping her hips and his mouth finding her breast and – oh yes, she can feel heat blooming on her face, on her chest, in her whole body.

Even with no ropes holding her, he has her in his power, under his thumb. And she plans to enjoy the hell out of it. 

*

Most of his relationship with Arya is purely accidental.

It was an accident that he met Jon and then Arya through him. Another accident claimed her father’s life and took her away. Then, she appeared in the bar on a day when he was not supposed to be working at all but was covering for a sick friend. And, absent-mindedly, she sat right in front of him.

Accidents, a whole lot of them.

But, despite all that, he likes to believe that he was given some choice in whether or not to actually fall in love with her. He likes to think that it was a choice- two of them, together. And he’s also damn sure that he chose right.

Arya’s so soft like that, so vulnerable. He watches her face when he closes his mouth around her nipple and marvels at her flushed cheeks, fluttering lashes, furrowed brow. All those mewls she lets out, biting on her lip violently until he reaches out to pull it from in-between her teeth.

‘’Don’t do that. It would be a shame to damage such pretty mouth.’’ Gendry coos at her, before leaning down to suckle on her other breast, his nose pressed to her delicate skin, her body trembling underneath his. Like that, he can feel her every breath, every smallest twitch of her hips. He props himself on his elbows, sucking a hickey on the delicate underside of her breast and licking the hot path along her sternum, before tearing his mouth away.

He reaches down to the floor, to pick up the ropes, but keeps his eyes on Arya; even with short, shallow pants that escape from her half-opened lips, she remains still as he told her to. She has, at some point, laced her fingers above her head, and her knuckles have already turned white.

‘’Good girl.’’ He murmurs, caressing her cheek with the back of his hand and her eyelids flutter. ‘’Any wishes, milady?’’

‘’Take off your fucking clothes.’’ Arya spits out instantly and he barks with laughter at that.

‘’How long have you kept this inside?’’ He asks, busing himself with gently separating her hands and looping the rope between one wrist, then another, leaving just enough length so that she could rest the length of her arms on the mattress. Gods bless headboards with posts.

‘’For a while now.’’ She answers, but it’s a breathy enough reply that he pauses tying her up to steal a glance at her.

She has her eyes shut close, face scrunched up in something akin to an intense concentration and, because he told her not to bite on her lip, she’s apparently chewing the inside of her cheek. Oh, _fuck_. He should’ve gotten around to buying this fucking rope ages ago, if it apparently works her up like that. When he pulls on the knot slightly to test it, she curls her hands in fists.

‘’Is it okay?’’ he pecks her on the forehead. ‘’Not too tight? Can you move your fingers?’’

‘’Yes.’’

‘’You’re sure?’’

‘’Oh my gods, _yes_.’’ She grumbles, opening her eyes to glare at him, irritation mixed in equal measure with arousal in her grey stare and look, he _knows_ he’s breaking the character and grinning like a love-sick idiot, but he _is_ a love-sick idiot for this woman so, well. Sue him.

‘’Okay.’’ He whispers and starts to unbutton his shirt, still smiling, as Arya sucks in the breath audibly. ‘’Enjoying the show?’’

‘’You know I am.’’ Her hands twitch a little against the restraints as if she wanted to reach out and touch him, but knots do not give in. He slips the material from his shoulders and stands up to hang it neatly on the back of the chair and Arya straight-up whines, one long stretched-out note that makes him snicker quietly.

‘’That’s a nice shirt, love. I think Sansa gave it to me on some occasion.’’

Silence. He can almost hear all the nice things Arya is thinking about Sansa right now.

‘’Oh, I bet you wish you could say something.’’ He sits back down on the bed and grabs Arya’s waist roughly, pulling her down until she’s flat on the bed, with her hands outstretched. She’s all flushed, pale skin colored red from her cheeks to her chest and hot to the touch when he puts on hand on the side of her neck, caressing the line of her jaw.

‘’I need you to keep your eyes open now.’’ Again, it’s not a question, so she doesn’t reply. But she nods her head in understanding, her mouth opening in sharp inhale instantly as he sneaks his fingers in between her legs, rights into this wet, delicious heat, smooth and soft and perfect. He has touched her thousand times and more but it never stops being exhilarating, even though, by this point, he knows exactly when and how and where to move to make her lose her damn mind.

Arya cries out, her muscles clenching violently and her back arching as he works her slowly, coaxing another cry out of her when he finds her clit and slides his thumb across it. Her eyelids fall down and he instantly takes his hand away, even as she squirms.

‘’Hey, love, calm down. ‘’ Gendry presses his forehead to hers, nuzzling the tip of his nose against hers and grabbing on her hips to keep her still. ‘’Open your eyes as I told you to.’’

When she does, after a heartbeat or two, all he can see is black; black which swallowed whole the dazzling grey. She lets out a shaky exhale and her arms fall down on the mattress, limp again.

‘’That’s right. Good girl.’’

He lets her sway against his fingers, keeping his hand in one position until she finds the angle she likes and her thighs start to tremble from rising pressure. Then, and only then, he pins her down to stop her from moving. Her inner walls tighten around his fingers and her toes curl, and he knows that she’s balancing on the edge of release now –

And denying it to her would only make it so much better when he does let her come. Also, she’s been doing a remarkably good job keeping quiet, which means that he has not been trying hard enough.

So he withdraws his fingers again.

The back of her head hits the pillow and she _breaks_.

‘’Gendry.’’ She moans, her voice low and needy and so unlike hers that if he did not see her speaking, he would not believe it’s her. He should probably punish her somehow for opening her mouth without being asked, but he loves it so fucking much when she calls him by his name in bed and she damn knows it. ‘’Gendry, please.’’

‘’What do you want?’’ he puts his hands on top of her thighs, rubbing his palms up and down and digging his fingers into trembling muscles.

‘’Please, let me come.’’ There are tears pooling in the corners of her eyes, but she’s still not using her safe words, so he tries not to give in to his urge to drop the scene and unbound her. He cradles her face and wipes the moisture away from her thumbs and licks his lips; slowly, deliberately, making sure that she sees it.

‘’As you wish, darling.’’

He cannot help, but twist her nipple roughly before sliding down to kneel on the floor and then pulling her by the hips lower so that he can put his mouth on her. It’s a blessing that she’s so close really; because, truth to be told, he’s way too gone to eat her out the way he would like to. All he can think about is fucking her, which makes him sloppy; but sloppy or not, Arya needs only a minute or two of deliberate, long licks and she’s trembling again, grinding against his tongue and moaning loudly before release makes her whimper in pleasure. Her back arches and her arms twitch against the rope but, when he raises up, he notices that her eyes are still wide opened, fixed on the ceiling as she’s gasping for breath.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and reaches down to push sweaty strands of hair away from her forehead.

‘’How are your hands? All good?’’ he sounds a little winded, which, in his humble opinion, can be excused, because Arya looks like a godsdamned daydream like this. Nipples tight, body pliant, chest heaving; legs still spread wide as he left them, dark hair surrounding her face like a halo. Her stare meets his and the corners of her lips raise up in a sweet smile as she nods in conformation, wriggling her fingers a little.

‘’Okay.’’ She sighs and he _loves her_, loves her so much, loves her like this; when she’s boneless and spent and nuzzles her cheek against his hand.

He cannot do anything else but lower his head down to kiss her, the tip of her nose first and then her lips; growling quietly when she nips on his lower lip the way he did earlier, her eyes still half-opened.

‘’Why are you looking at me?’’

‘’You didn’t tell me I can close my eyes.’’ She giggles against his mouth, pressing a wet kiss on his jaw, his chin, anywhere she can reach as he’s hovering above her. No teeth, no spitfire; just the pressure of her warm lips on his skin, her quiet exhales and the smell of her skin, the flutter of her eyelashes against his cheek. He’s going mad; he will lose his fucking mind or come into his pants like a teenager if he lets her undo him like that for a second longer.

‘’Oh, look at you, so obedient.’’ He straightens his back and she flops down on the mattress, still laughing playfully. ‘’Close your eyes then. Do you want me to blindfold you, or will you keep them closed?’’

She huffs quietly and he knows full well she’s fighting the urge to roll her eyes (_I sometimes think half of the fun for you is keeping me in the dark, Gendry) _but she’s still dazed enough from her orgasm that she lowers her eyelids and shakes her head.

‘’I will keep them closed.’’

‘’Good girl.’’

He pulls his zipper down and grins when she inhales sharply. The whole fun of keeping Arya in the dark, is having her absolutely unprepared from whatever he does to her next and thus, more responsive… not that it is ever a problem. He undresses quickly and crawls on top of her, gathering her body in his arms the way she likes so much; his cock pressed against her inner thigh, his hands sneaking in-between her and the mattress. He drags his nails along the length of her spine sharply and Arya throws her head back, arching to give him more space.

Gendry leans down and nuzzles into the junction of her neck, inhaling the smell of cinnamon and sweat on her, kissing her collarbones and the hollow of her throat. The rope is digging into her wrists a bit when she tries to raise her arms and he smiles at that. He knows full well what she wants to do; how it’s pure instinct for her at this point to bury her fingers in his hair when they’re like this.

‘’Not this time, love.’’ Gendry rests his forehead on her clavicle, marveling at the rise and fall of her chest and the quickening of her breath. But as much as he would like to just stay like that forever, he’s already leaking pre-cum from the sheer proximity of her warm, wet cunt and he thinks they both had enough teasing for one night.

He slowly grinds his hips against her, his cock sliding in-between her folds easily and they both moan at the same time.

‘’_Fuck_, Arya.’’ He gasps, white noise ringing in his ears; when he tries to pull away a little bit, Arya shifts slightly and wraps her legs around him, keeping him in place. Her thighs are trembling; she’s all trembling, panting, her fists clenched around the rope.

‘’What do you want, love?’’ it’s an awkward position, with her so much shorter than him, but he is as far from the thought of moving as possible. Not with Arya’s heels digging into the muscles above his ass, not with her sprayed underneath him like a feast. He presses a kiss to the top of her head. ‘’How do you want me?’’

*

Arya cannot see anything; not with how dark is outside, not with lights off in their bedroom and definitely not with her lids down.

But she does not need her eyes, she does not need her sight, when all she can feel is Gendry.

Gendry above her, the head of his cock brushing her clit so delicately that she thinks she’s about to cry again.

And he has the _nerve _to ask her what she wants.

She raises her head and crooks it, blindly searching for him; and when her nose bumps against his throat, she opens her mouth and bites, tasting the copper on her tongue and smirking wickedly when he curses, feeling him growing harder between her legs.

And like a good girl, she keeps her eyes closed when she whispers through clenched teeth:

‘’Fuck me, Gendry. Please,_ please_, fuck me.’’

She doesn’t even have a chance to finish talking when he pushes into her in one, smooth movement, filling her up completely and almost making her choke on her tongue. There is nothing she wishes for more desperately than to see his face; those brilliant blue eyes glazed over from pleasure, mouth still wet from licking her into oblivion. And how badly she aches to put her hands on his shoulders, to drag her nails down his back or to run her fingertips across his cheekbones.

But she cannot do any of those things, so she focuses on something else.

There’s a thrill in being bound, in being helpless. There’s even a thrill in being smaller and weaker, she has discovered, as long as it’s Gendry who’s bigger and stronger and in charge. Because she trusts him. In this and all other things.

It’s a bit like taking passenger seat instead of sitting behind the wheel. If you know that the driver takes you right where you want them too, you can as well sit comfortably and relax, letting someone else choose the route. 

Arya can feel him shifting, kneeling on the mattress and probably gripping the headrest of the bed for the better support as his other hand grabs her waist. She’s going to bruise purple and yellow from the pressure of his fingers, no doubt about it, but the thought only makes her smile a little. In all the years they’ve known each other, Gendry has never treated her like a glass doll, not once. He gave her the space to set the boundaries herself and respected them… and it was just one of the many things that made her fall in love with him.

‘’Fuck, you feel so perfect, love.’’ He murmurs, pulling almost completely out of her and then snapping his hips forward and she gasps, her legs tightening around him involuntarily. ‘’You’re so gorgeous, so good to me. There’s no one else but you, only you.’’

Warm, sweet feeling spills in her belly. She knows that she’s blushing; there’s this unmistakable, familiar sting across the skin of her cheeks, her chest. Somehow, nothing gets her flustered quite like Gendry praising her and honestly, she blames it on all those left-over childhood insecurities caused by Sansa.

He slides in and out of her, in and out, in and out and all she sees in red and blue and gold exploding underneath her closed eyelids, all she hears is his quickening breath, her own, incoherent mewls, the wet sound of their bodies slapping against one another. She could stay like this forever, just live in this one, marvelous moment of Gendry fucking her _just right _with the practiced ease as she’s helplessly laying underneath him.

‘’Oh gods, I wish you could see herself, how beautiful you look right now.’’

She doesn’t even care if she comes or not. It’s just feels so good, so sweet. In and out, in and out, directly brushing against some sensitive part of her that has her losing her fucking mind and squirming madly. Her lip curls inward automatically, right between her teeth, because _the fuck she’s supposed to_ do if she cannot hold onto him?

And he notices, of course he notices.

‘’I thought – I told you- not to do that.’’ He spits in-between thrusts. ‘’Didn’t I?’’

Arya nods her head a few times, but does not stop; if she was to stop, some horrifying blubber will definitely spill from her lips, because there’s no way in hell she remains quiet when he pounds into her like that.

‘’Oh, well. I can give you something to do with your mouth, no problem.’’ And she has only a second or two to brace herself before he lets go of the headboard and puts his hand between her legs, his fingers pinching her swollen clit painfully.

She has never been a screamer but she’s quite sure he just turned her into one.

And she has also never been further from using a safe word in her whole fucking _life._

Especially when he picks up the pace, alternating between roughly squeezing her breast and massaging her clit in those maddening, circular movements, keeping her drowning in pleasure to such point and for so long that when she actually comes, she doesn’t even notice it at first. She just registers that all the muscles in her body are trembling as if she was electrocuted and then suddenly she’s peaking so hard, that it almost feels like fainting. Somewhere, at the back of her mind, she can hear Gendry’s breathy laughter, can feel the kisses he litters on her chest and shoulders. Somewhere, at a great distance, she can hear her own gasps and cries, can feel her erratic heartbeat. But it’s all so very foggy and far-away, almost as if was happening to someone else.

Because Arya, Arya is passing out, she’s done. She couldn’t feel more than this, even if she tried her hardest.

The next thing that she does consciously process are Gendry’s hands cupping her face, his fingers caressing the delicate skin behind her ears tenderly as he whispers to her:

‘’Open your eyes, my love. Open your eyes now.’’

Suddenly, it feels like so much work. Too much work. An impossible feat. How she’s supposed to do that, if she has no muscles, if she feels like a melted puddle on the bed?

‘’C’mon, darling, open your eyes.’’

Oh, she loves it when he calls her darling. She loves him so much, too much, way too much.

She manages to raise her eyelids and Gendry’s looking at her, staring at her face with soft smile and adoration gleaming in his eyes. He’s flushed too, with some sweat-soaked strands of hair plastered to his forehead. His arms are shaking slightly and he’s out of breath, and, if she could, she would take a picture of him like that and stare at forever.

He’s also still hard in her, which means he has been _waiting for her _to come down from her height a little, because he knows she likes feeling him come in her.

_Oh. _

‘’I love you.’’ She laughs, so infinitely light and happy and satisfied. She could eat the world raw now. ‘’I love you, Gendry’’

‘’I love you, Arya.’’ He replies without a second of delay, reaching out his hand to hold one of her bound ones. Without breaking their eye contact, he thrusts into her once, twice; his fingers gripping hers tightly when he comes with a strangled cry. His back bows when his head falls down to rest on her clavicle and she lays still underneath him with her nose buried in his hair; basking in the after-glow and hoping that he can hear her heartbeat.

Hoping that he knows that her heart’s beating for him now.

*

He knows that he’s not her first. That’s okay. He’s fine with that. Let Aegon Targaryen and Willow Heddle and Ned Dayne have her first kisses and first dates and first times. In his own experience, first times are, more often than not, not much than vaguely embarrassing yet fond memories.

Gendry himself intends to be all of Arya’s lasts.

So, good thing that all went according to the plan and she was sufficiently occupied with the discovery of the ropes to discontinue snooping. After all, it’s hard not to guess what may possibly be hidden in a little velvet box as soon as one finds its. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading my fic! If you could please spare a few more minutes of your time and write me a comment, I would be REALLY grateful <3


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